


Ballet For Two

by ernyx



Series: IronWidow fics (for ease of finding) [6]
Category: MCU, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A gorgeous couple healing together, Ballet, Dancing, F/M, Feels, Happy Ending, Memories, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ernyx/pseuds/ernyx
Summary: Tony stumbles across Natasha dancing. And by stumbles across, I mean that he walks in, she doesn't notice because she's far too distracted, and he has the good grace to awkwardly fumble through making her feel better about it... by asking for lessons.Natasha is amused enough to agree.





	Ballet For Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tincanicarus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tincanicarus/gifts).



> crossposted from tumblr @artificiallyimplantedmemories, prompted by tincanicarus // feel free to send prompts for me here or there

 [tincanicarus](http://tincanicarus.tumblr.com/) sent the prompt: Picture this: Natasha teaching Tony ballet.

     Natasha doesn’t do this often– she likes to leave the past in the past– but once in a while, when nobody’s around, she goes through a few ballet moves, as if to see if she remembers them. Her memories from those days are unreliable at best, so she’s often wonders if she actually did half of what she remembers, but in this case, muscle memory kicks in so fast that it’s undeniable.

     She goes through her stretches first, careful not to get herself injured while indulging herself, and then put on her [music for the day](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DZYUJy2EGgdY&t=YmNjNTU5OWY4MGI3MDk5MDQ5ODgzZGIzYmY2NjZhOTZlNDFkODc0YixXWll2Z3pzeg%3D%3D&b=t%3AjQY_UDoo8tQ6e-i1KEV9jQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fartificiallyimplantedmemories.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F140747642171%2Fpicture-this-natasha-teaching-tony-ballet&m=0). Natasha can’t bring herself to start right away, staring into the mirror for a couple minutes as she takes in her current form and face in such an old outfit (it’s a new leotard, but they all look alike, so it’s just like the one she wore once for the bolshoi ballet).

     And then the swell of the music dies down into a quiet segment, and she stretches her leg forward, toes perfectly pointed, and begins.

     There’s some sort of release in this, an ability to get lost in it, and she leaps and twirls and tiptoes around the room in patterns her body remembers better than she does. Her eyes are closed, and yet she never bumps into anything, never wavers from her perfect form. Perhaps the music reverberates more within her today or she needs to distance herself from reality more, but whatever it is, she doesn’t notice when someone appears in the doorway.

     The music dies down again, and she lets out a breath she was holding. Her eyes open almost sleepily, as if she’s come out of a dream, and then go lively and alert at the other presence in the room. Natasha whirls towards the door and her heart leaps to her throat at the sight of Tony.

     “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Tony says before she can get a word in edgewise. She nods but she’s still shaking internally, feeling like she’s accidentally exposed something hidden within her ribcage. “That was really impressive. You’re gorgeous when you’re dancing– not to say that you’re not otherwise but– I mean, ballet’s really graceful. And you’re really good at it.”

     Somehow, the slight floundering is more reassuring to Natasha than it should be, and she manages a hesitant smile. “I was just seeing if I could still pull it off. I must have gotten distracted.” It doesn’t do for a spy not to notice things, is what she’s saying, but luckily she trusts Tony.

     Tony smiles at her. “It was amazing.” And then, as if on impulse, “Would you teach me?” Natasha’s eyebrows rise almost to her hairline, but he continues. “I had to take a few dance lessons when I was young, I bet I could do it. Not as good as you, but I could if you showed me how.”

     She laughs, relaxing for the first time. “Alright, you weirdo.” He immediately toes off his shoes. “Wait, now?”

     “Why not?”

     The music is still playing in the background, so she shrugs and mentally says _fuck it, sure I’ll do it_  and leads him over to the barre. Over the next hour, she shows him the proper form for various steps, and is surprised at how decently flexible he is. By the end of it, he has the five basic positions down, and can do proper stepping technique.

* * *

     She had thought that it would be a passing fancy, but Tony had come around to bother her for another lesson after the first one, and then another and another, until they were meeting weekly (unless she was called away for a mission) to do ballet together. At the end of each lesson, Tony would beg her to see some of her dancing, and she’d do a small piece for him, a little recital, and he’d eagerly chat with her on the way out about how she did moves that he hadn’t mastered yet.

     Now, she teaches him how to dance with her. He’s not up to her level, which is entirely to be expected since she’d had it whipped into her until her toes bled and then some, but he’s gotten quite good and Nat is proud of her student.

     She lets him lead her into a series of twirls, and then they  _glissade_  together, synchronized, before he grabs her hand again. These sessions have become relaxation for both of them, and they smile as they do the pointe section together. Tony lifts her and stumbles out of form a bit, and promptly groans.

     “That’s okay, you were doing really well. Lifts are hard.”  
     “I should have the muscle strength for that, it’s not like I’m not built!”  
     “You  _do_  have it, it’s just a matter of balance. My center of gravity isn’t aligned with yours for this bit, so you’ve got to adjust. But you’re getting there.”

     She pats him on the head, and he snorts out a laugh. “Yes ma’am,” he snaps a salute, and Natasha laughs, batting his hand away before pulling his hand back into hers so they can try again.

     It’s not so bad, she thinks, to let these new memories wipe away the pain of the old ones. Instead of feeling like she’s ripped herself open to show someone a part of her, now it feels more like a comfortable presence within her, so she smiles and begins to pirouette again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Feedback? I'd love to hear it! Drop me a line either here or on my tumblr (artificiallyimplantedmemories) !


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